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Updated: June 8, 2025
The gaunt rascal, whom they called Francois, heaved a pensive sigh, as if this reminiscence awakened touching memories in him. "And yet, to show the perversity of the sex," continued Barbemouche, "that same day I saw another man kiss her, and she gave him back two kisses for his one." "Perhaps he was a handsome man," said the fat fellow, sagely.
"You have a prejudice against the sex," put in the foppish fellow. "Par dieu! I ought not to have!" answered Barbemouche. "I owe them too much for the many favors I've had from them. But they are mystifying creatures. To mistake a maid for her mistress is nothing remarkable. For that matter, I've known women of the lower orders who had more airs than great ladies.
By this time Barbemouche and gaunt Francois had added their breathings to the somnolent choir. "You are a mighty drinker, monsieur," I said to De Berquin, admiringly, at the same time refilling my own mug. "Ask of the cabaret keepers of Paris whether the Vicomte de Berquin can hold his share of the good red vine-juice!" he replied, jubilantly, dipping his mug again into the pot.
"Filthy cur, you have lied to me!" cried De Berquin. "Nay, monsieur," I answered, throwing from me the weapons of Barbemouche and Francois, "I keep my word. I promised you La Tournoire unarmed. Behold him!" And I stepped out from beside Blaise and stood with open arms. "La Tournoire!" repeated De Berquin, taking a backward step and staring at me with open mouth.
"The place seems closed as tight as the gates of Heaven to a heretic," growled Barbemouche, scrutinizing the inn. The tall fellow here awoke from his reverie, and spoke in solemn, deliberate tones: "Would it not be well to wake up the landlord and try his wine?" "Wake up the devil!" cried Barbemouche angrily. "Nobody is to be waked up.
"Yes," replied Barbemouche, ingenuously, "but no handsomer than I." "At that time you were probably handsomer even than you are now," dryly observed the gaunt man. "You are right," said Barbemouche, "for I was young, and I did not have this scar," and he thrust back the rim of his hat and laid his hand on his forehead. "In what fight with the watch did you get that?" inquired Francois.
In De Berquin, and in Barbemouche as well, vengeance cried for my immediate death. Moreover, my death would remove the chief obstacle to De Berquin's having his will concerning Mlle. de Varion. For an instant, I thought he might let me live that I might tell him her whereabouts, but I perceived that my presence was indication to him that she was near at hand.
The fellows went on talking, regardless of the presence of their leader, who gave no heed to their babble, except occasionally by a gesture to caution Barbemouche to lessen his volume of voice. "I never knew an enterprise to run smoothly which had anything to do with women," Barbemouche was saying. "Where men only are concerned, one knows exactly what to do, and makes no mistakes."
I could not yet bring myself to feel that I was safe from pursuit. So used had I become to a condition of flight, that I could not throw off the feeling of being still pursued. And yet, I had hoped that Barbemouche would tire of the chase. My plan had not been to confuse him as to my track, by taking by-roads or skirting the towns, but merely to outrun him.
De Berquin laughed. Barbemouche said, "You are no stranger" "Then you know me?" said I. "Who am I?" "You are the answer to a prayer," said Barbemouche, with an ugly grin. "You thought you fooled us finely last night, and that when you had made a hole in my body you had done with me.
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